


John

by The Author (HMSquared)



Category: Original Work, XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Author's Favorite, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Original Universe, Overdosing, Past Character Death, Relapsing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/The%20Author
Summary: After the Commander's death, Central tries (and fails) to cope.
Relationships: John "Central" Bradford & Commander (XCOM)
Kudos: 3





	John

**Author's Note:**

> I...love...XCOM. My dad and I played the second game together, and the memory of watching that first cutscene is one I will treasure.
> 
> In fact, I've slowly been planning a story that combines the world of XCOM and a few of my OC's. Most of it is only in my head, but I've been jotting things down as I go along. That story won't get published here since I legitimately want to make it a show one day and don't want anyone to steal my ideas, but this is the epilogue to it.
> 
> A lot of this won't make sense since it contains references to things only I know exist, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

Once again, Central found himself in the bar holding an empty shot glass between his fingers and reminiscing. His throat still burned from the whiskey, not that it mattered. Not anymore.

It was been a long five months. So much had happened, and he couldn’t even begin to process it all.

They won. After 22 years of fighting and conflict, XCOM had won. The Elders were gone, the aliens dead, and for a while everything had gone okay. They stayed together, their small group of misfits, under the Commander. Who still hated being called that.

The missions had continued. Other threats descended on Earth. Betrayal, death on both sides. They had lost the Avenger for a small period of time, forced to abandon it when the poison set in. Only after finally sealing away the evil did they return.

But they had also lost. So many people had died, only a few resurrected. Then there was the Commander herself, who had given up her life to prevent someone from making the same mistakes.

They had needed the technology. That was Shen’s argument. The citadel could be re-purposed, the technology modified. Julian himself helped design the A.I. for the new turrets. Anytime someone thought about invading, the early warning system would kick in and XCOM would take up arms once again.

It still wasn’t worth it. Central couldn’t get that image out of his head...the image of the Commander crashing to the ground, flickering in and out of life. Until she wasn’t anymore.

Tygan kept insisting he needed a break. The Volunteer agreed. But Central gave them both a run for their money. They had tried everything, yet he kept relapsing. Every three weeks, they hit the same holding pattern.

Going to the bridge didn’t help. It just brought back memories, phantoms only he could see. The Commander studying the hologlobe; smiling at the klaxon interrupting her return as Central rushed to shut it off. Small things like that.

Every once in a while, he’d find himself back in the original base, back when the Commander still got chronic nosebleeds and Central still had a crew cut. He remembered her teasing him about his sweater after waking up in her new room.

The thing that haunted him most was her smile. The Commander’s grin was infectious, but now it only made him sad. And every time that happened, Central could hear her saying, “Don’t cry, Bradford...don’t cry.” Visiting her grave provoked the same reaction.

“Central?” He turned around. Shen was standing in the doorway, worriedly staring at him. “You really should take a vacation.”

“I know.” But where could he go? Central’s family had been killed during the original invasion, the rebuilt city centers provided him no joy, and even if he went to the ends of the Earth, the memories would follow him.

Shaking her head, the young Lily Shen left Central to think. There was no one else around; the radio had been silent for the past five months. Grabbing a bottle of top-shelf bourbon, he drank until a woman with a scythe came to collect him.


End file.
